Oedipus Complex
by Crystal Dawn
Summary: When Ichigo refuses to act on his feelings for Orihime, Isshin does the only logical thing - he decides to marry her himself! Can Ichigo stop the wedding, or is Orihime going to be his new step-mother?
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Oedipus Complex – Chapter One

**Warnings:** het (IchiHime, IsshinHime), May/December relationship

**Disclaimer:** These characters belong to a lot of Japanese people, namely people like Tite Kubo and Shonen Jump. You'll notice how none of those are me. Not responsible for epileptic seizures or allergic reactions. May contain eye-and-brain-bleeding levels of radioactive ANGST and/or peanut products. Please sit a reasonable distance from your computer screen.

**Author's Notes:** No, I've not abandoned my other fics! I was just struck with this idea through some conversations with a couple friends and couldn't resist writing it… It just turned out a lot longer than I thought it would. So this is dedicated to **Nocturne**, as she's our Forum Isshin, and to **Star-chan**, who has been a great friend to me personally. Also, this is my 30th story on FFnet! Congratulations, me!

* * *

Ichigo entered the genkan, shaking off his umbrella and slipping off his shoes. Water droplets sprayed across the foyer as Ichigo shook himself out of his coat.

His muscles were tense, anticipating the attack he was sure was coming. His senses were on high alert, waiting for his father to spring his daily Welcome Home assault. For some strange reason, though, the expected attack never came. As Ichigo looked around curiously, though, he saw why.

His father was already in the front room, a meter or so from the door. Kurosaki Isshin was intently looking out the blinds at the rain-soaked February streets beyond. There was a focused frown on his face and his eyebrows were knitted together. Ichigo knew what was coming, even as his father turned to acknowledge him. He scowled defiantly in his direction, looking for all the world like a disgruntled, wet orange cat.

"What?" Ichigo finally challenged him.

"You know very well what!" Isshin responded, rising to his full height. He stalked over to where Ichigo stood and waited just a second before pummeling him in the head.

Ichigo could differentiate quite well between his father's various punches. This was not one of his usual surprise sneak attacks to test his reflexes. No, this punch clearly said "Stop being an idiot". Not only had Isshin made his intention clear from the start, telegraphing his movements plainly, he had struck Ichigo squarely on his crown, almost hammering him to the floor.

"Oww!" he squawked, grabbing his head before rearing back up in his fury, "What the hell was that for, old man?"

"You're going to just let Orihime-chan walk home alone? In the rain?" At this point, the older man was full-out bellowing, pointing down at his son. He must have seen the redheaded healer out on the sidewalk, walking away from their clinic, cheery yellow umbrella slung over her shoulder.

"What about it?" Ichigo groused, cleaning some water out of his ear with a finger, "She'll be fine. It's not like she's my girlfriend or anything." Isshin crossed his arms over his broad chest, his own scowl growing deeper to mirror his son's.

"Why would she want to be?" Isshin asked flippantly, "You've been ignoring that poor girl ever since you brought her back from Hueco Mundo three months ago!" Ichigo looked away, unable to meet his father's stern gaze.

"It's better for her that way," Ichigo groused, crossing his own arms defensively, "She got kidnapped because Aizen wanted to get to me. She's better off not getting too attached to me." He turned away, already tired of this conversation.

"Well, whoop-de-doo, aren't we the big, strong, stoic hero?" Isshin said sarcastically, "So what happens if someone comes after her again? Are you just going to say it's not your problem?" Ichigo turned back around, rounding on him.

"Of course I wouldn't!" he yelled, "But if she doesn't get close to me, we won't have that problem again, now will we?" Now their confrontation had escalated into a full-fledged screaming match.

"Oh yeah?" Isshin shot back, "What if she gets taken away from you in a different way?"

"What are you talking about now, old man? You're making even less sense than normal!"

"What if she's not always there for you?" Isshin asked, his dark eyes nearly black, "What if some other guy came along and treated her right, since you don't seem to want to?" Ichigo snorted, turning away.

"Good," he grumbled, "She deserves someone who'll treat her right." _'Someone who's not a freak,'_ he finished mentally. His father didn't need to hear that bit; it'd only give him more ammo.

"Yeah? You're okay with that?" Isshin asked, smirking, "What about those boys that went with you? Sado-kun's pretty good looking, isn't he? Or maybe she likes boys with glasses?"

Ichigo didn't seriously consider either option. Sure, every guy at school had a crush on Orihime. The fact that she followed the black sheep of the class around like a puppy only served to reinforce many of those crushes; after all, what girl would really be interested in a punk like Kurosaki Ichigo? Besides, if either Chad or Uryuu were interested in Orihime, Ichigo would've noticed by now... Right?

"Good for her," he finally dismissed his father's insinuations, "It's none of my business, anyway." Ichigo had finally had enough of his crazy father for one afternoon and moved to pick up his books. This time, the old man seemed to be deep in thought, a harsh scowl etched across his face. Ichigo was simply thankful he didn't try to stop him again.

As he stomped off to his room to start his homework, Ichigo didn't see his father's grave look.  
"Is that so?"

* * *

Things went back to normal for the next three days. Nothing further was said about Orihime, and Isshin's daily attacks resumed. Orihime walked Ichigo home every day, and every day Ichigo dismissed her with a grunt. He would always turn away from her without thanking her or really even acknowledging her. He figured if he did this long enough, she'd eventually give up and find someone else to walk home with.

And on Friday afternoon, she finally did give up.

As Ichigo passed the school gates and saw that Orihime wasn't waiting for him as usual, a small feeling of relief washed over him. Sure, he was a little curious about her absence, but he reminded himself that this was what he'd wanted. He wasn't allowed to miss her cheerful countenance and pleasant voice. He had driven her away himself, after all. This was his decision.

But by the time he reached the walkway leading to his family's clinic, he was genuinely worried. She'd walked home with him every day for the past three months. What if she was sick? Or hurt? He just wanted her to give up on him, he didn't want anything bad to happen to her! And after the debacle in Hueco Mundo, she was always very careful to let him know where she'd be.

As he entered the house and wearily called out his arrival, his stomach clenched. Maybe he'd just give her a little call to see if she was alright. That wouldn't hurt his plans, right? Even as he tried to persuade himself otherwise, Ichigo knew calling her would only give her false hope. He'd just have to live with the upset stomachs and clenched teeth.

So preoccupied in his miserable thoughts was he, that Ichigo didn't even register the voices coming from the kitchen at first. When he finally did, he could make out his father, Yuzu, Karin, and another familiar voice that he couldn't quite recognize immediately. They all paused for a second, presumably upon hearing him come in, before his father called out to him.

"Ichigo! Come here! I've got a surprise for you!"

Ichigo groaned, but trudged into the kitchen anyway. Whatever his father wanted, he wouldn't be satisfied until Ichigo came to see him, so he might as well get it over with. When he got there, he wasn't surprised to see his father standing there, smug, sickening grin plastered across his face. What he was surprised to see, however, was that the huge, embarrassing poster of his mom that had adorned the kitchen for years was missing. That alone tipped Ichigo from being irritated to having a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"What, Dad?" he asked, turning his skeptical eyes back to his father. Isshin simply kept smiling that same irritating smile.

"Well, Ichigo, how do I say this?" he began, obviously excited, "I wanted you to meet your new mother!"

Ichigo's eyes narrowed. He didn't particularly care if his dad remarried or whatever; no one was obligated to be lonely forever just because their spouse died, in Ichigo's opinion. But there was no way in hell he would ever call another woman "Mom".

Before Ichigo could express his extreme displeasure, however, Isshin stepped aside to reveal the girl whom Ichigo assumed was his new girlfriend.

Ichigo's mind instantly snapped through several stages of reaction. First was denial; his father was joking, right? Next was anger; how dare that bastard date her, of all people? He knew better than anyone how Ichigo felt about her! Then came bargaining; maybe if he just grabbed her and threw her out of the house, this would fix itself? And finally was anger again. And his mind pretty much decided that this was precisely where it needed to be and didn't move on.

Why was his dad dating Inoue Orihime?


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Oedipus Complex – Chapter Two  
**Warnings:** het (IchiHime, IsshinHime), May/December relationship  
**Spoilers:** Through current chapters (417)

**Disclaimer:** These characters belong to a lot of Japanese people, namely people like Tite Kubo and Shonen Jump. You'll notice how none of those are me. Not responsible for epileptic seizures or allergic reactions. May contain eye-and-brain-bleeding levels of radioactive ANGST and/or peanut products. Please sit a reasonable distance from your computer screen.

**Author's Notes:** I'm going to try to update this daily because that's about how long it takes me to edit the chapters. I don't want to spam the Ichi_Hime LJ comm with it, though, so if you want to follow through LJ, friend my writing journal! And yes, sixteen IS old enough to get married in Japan. And now you know.

* * *

"What the fuck is she doing here?" Ichigo bellowed, pointing angrily at the pretty redhead in front of him, "What do you _mean_ new mother? She's my age!" Isshin reached over and popped Ichigo on the ear soundly as the young woman flinched.

"Language, young man!" his father bellowed, "How dare you speak in front of your new mother that way! Apologize to Orihime-chan right this instant!" This did nothing to soothe Ichigo's anger.

"Orihime-cha-" he sputtered in disbelief before turning to his sisters, "Did you two know about this?" Yuzu smiled happily while Karin shrugged.

"I think it's sweet," the blonde sister said, "And it'll be nice to have another woman around the house!"

"The old goat can do whatever he wants," Karin added with a bored wave, "It's none of my business."

Seeing he was going to have no help from his sisters, Ichigo turned back to his father and his new girlfriend in angry disbelief.

"But it's... It's illegal!" Ichigo sputtered, grasping at straws. Surely there were laws against this, right?

"Actually," Isshin said, waggling his eyebrows, "Sixteen is old enough to get married legally. And thirteen _is_ the age of consent..." Ichigo's face nearly turned purple at that comment.

"Age of-" he spat, not wanting to even think about why his father knew that, "That's only if you're a minor, too! And what do you mean married?"

"I mean I just proposed to Orihime-chan, and she said yes," Isshin said proudly, putting an arm around Orihime's shoulder and nearly dwarfing the smaller girl, "We're going to the family registry next week to make her a real Kurosaki!" Ichigo stared openly at Orihime. She'd been standing timidly beside Isshin this entire time, not making a peep. Currently, she was studying the linoleum beneath her little feet.

Finally having heard enough, Ichigo reached out and grabbed Orihime by the arm. She squeaked as he pulled her away from his father's grip, stumbling after him as he headed toward the living room with her.

"We need to talk," Ichigo growled, ignoring the puzzled looks Isshin and his sisters were giving him.

When he finally released her well out of earshot of his nosy family, he couldn't even stand to look at her face. Her eyes were wide and watery, looking for all the world like she might cry at any second. That hurt look caused a pang of regret to briefly flicker through Ichigo.

"Ichigo-kun?" she asked, causing him to look at her, "What's wrong? I thought you'd be happy for us..." His eyebrows shot up at the familiar address.

"What's with the 'Ichigo-kun'?" he asked bluntly. Orihime's face colored as she looked away from his intense gaze.

"I-I figured I should be more familiar since... since we're going to be family now," she said quietly, not meeting his eyes, "I'd really like it if you could call me 'Mom' from now on, too."

Ichigo wanted to be angry with her. And maybe some part of him was. But the larger part of him knew that she probably didn't know what had happened to his mother, and was probably only doing this to please his father. So instead of the outrage his father had invoked, he simply gave Orihime an exasperated sigh.

"I will not call you 'Mom', Inoue," he said firmly, before changing the subject, "I want to know why you're doing this. If that old man is blackmailing you, I swear by all that is holy, I'll-"

"He's not blackmailing me, Ichigo-kun," she said with a bit of a nervous smile, "It's just that... Well, I've always been grateful for how he tried to help Onii-chan, and he asked, and I'm tired of relying on my relatives for everything, a-and it wouldn't be a bad marriage, so I figured I might as well give it a shot, right?" Ichigo's expression went from confused to agitated as she spoke.

"So you don't even love him?" Ichigo questioned her. Surprisingly, he felt less upset at the idea of a woman marrying his father without loving him and more upset that _Orihime_ was going to marry someone she didn't love. Either one would be a pretty bad prospect, but the fact that it was this woman in particular was what was irritating Ichigo the most.

"Well, no..." she said softly, averting her eyes again, "But I can learn to really love him, right? That's a part of growing up, isn't it? Taking what's possible instead of what's perfect? If he likes me, and it'll be a good marriage, I should do it. I might not get another chance..."

Instead of calming Ichigo down, though, this had the opposite effect - he was positively _fuming_. Why was she so desperate? Did she really think so little of herself that she'd take the first thing that was offered to her? He wanted to grab her and shake her, but he refrained; his fists were shaking from the effort, though.

"What do you mean, you won't get another chance?" Ichigo ground out, "You're only sixteen! I know at least a dozen guys in our class that would kill for a chance to go out with you!" Ichigo left out the part about that being the exact number of guys who'd picked a fight with him over Orihime in the past three months. It evened out to about one jackass a week taking over his lunch hour so Ichigo could pound some sense into him.

"But I don't know any of them," Orihime replied simply, looking up at Ichigo with wide, earnest eyes, "Please, Ichigo-kun. Try to understand. We really want this." He cursed to himself, looking away from her. He wasn't going to be able to tell her 'no' while she was making that face at him. Instead, he simply didn't reply.

"Besides," she went on, trying nervously to fill the silence, "We're already friends, right? So it shouldn't be hard for us to all get along from now on. A-And it'll be nice for me to have a family, too."

Ichigo's eyes softened at that. He knew Orihime lived alone with nothing but her brother's picture to keep her company. Who was he to tell her she couldn't have a family after so long without one? So at that admission, he sighed and admitted defeat. He might not approve of it, he might not even like it, but this was what was best for her, right? At least this way, he wasn't a threat to her any longer, and she had someone who'd look after her and treat her right.

"Alright, Inoue," he finally sighed, "I guess I'll... deal with it. If that's what you really want..." Orihime gave him a watery smile. For some reason suddenly, it made his heart ache, but he returned it anyway.

"Thank you, Ichigo-kun," she said softly, "You'll see - I'll take great care of all of you!" Then she did something that made his heart stop; she reached up and gave him a little peck on the cheek.

Ichigo felt his cheeks fill with heat. Inoue Orihime had just kissed him. And it was actually a _pleasant_ experience. She had placed her hands on his chest when she leaned up to do it, and her soft lips had burned her clean smell of rain and powder into his senses. And as his heart rate soared, he remembered that in a week, she'd be marrying his Dad. That thought alone was like dumping a bucket of ice water on his new-found hormones.

"I'll see you back in the kitchen, okay?" she said gently before turning away.

As he watched the curtain of her hair fall over her back, and her hips sway lightly beneath her school skirt, Ichigo was hit by a sudden pang of guilt. Maybe if he'd said something earlier, this wouldn't be happening. Maybe this was punishment for being so hardhearted to her before. Contrary to popular belief, Ichigo wasn't stupid or unobservant. He could tell very well that Orihime had been nursing a crush on him for at least the past three months, but he'd chosen to ignore it for her own good. Now, he not only had to know she was happily with another man, but he had to live with them as well. He couldn't simply block it out because he would have to see it every day from now until he moved out to go to college.

It was going to be a very long time indeed.

* * *

After he talked with Orihime, Ichigo ignored everyone in the kitchen and went straight to his room. He had no plans to come out for the night, not even for dinner. He wasn't ready to watch the happy domestic scenes between his Dad and his new girlfriend just yet.

After an hour or so, boredom began to set in, though, and he began to work on his homework. He found his concentration was garbage and he could barely answer even the simplest questions. He kept imagining Orihime helping his sisters with their Pre-Algebra, like his mother would have if she was still alive. After snapping a couple pencils accidentally, he slammed his book shut and shoved himself away from his desk, standing in a huff.

Having nothing better to do, he began to pace. His head was spinning from the movement and from his thoughts. Maybe it wasn't too late. Maybe he could stop this insanity. What if Tatsuki found out? Wouldn't she unleash hellfire and damnation until this whole thing was fixed? He resolved to talk to her first thing Monday. If Orihime wouldn't listen to him, maybe she'd listen to another girl.

More importantly, he hoped she'd go back to her own apartment soon so Ichigo could come out and get something to eat. His stomach was already growling angrily to compliment his mental state. If he had to stay like this all night, he wasn't sure if he'd be able to maintain what was left of his sanity.

"Ichigo-kun? Are you busy?"

Ichigo froze, mid-pace. Speak of the devil. When he didn't answer, the girl on the other side pushed open his door and peeked inside. Upon finding him standing and looking rather preoccupied, Orihime looked around the room shyly before shrinking back to close the door once more.

"Umm, I-I'll come back later," she stammered, "You look busy." Before she could shut the door, Ichigo stopped it with his foot.

"No, Inoue," he replied quietly, "I'm not busy. What do you need?" She blushed up at him shyly at his tone. It was much gentler than it had been earlier.

"Your father wanted me to come get you for dinner," she said with an awkward smile, "I helped Yuzu-chan with it, a-and I was really hoping you could try it."

As much as Ichigo hated to admit it, her pleading, hopeful tone made him keenly aware that he would be unable to refuse her anything. If she'd asked him to go to the moon and pick up some mochi from the rabbit up there, he'd have grudgingly said yes.

"Alright," he said, lowering his eyelids before following her downstairs.

Dinner was much the same as normal, just with the addition of Orihime. Karin fought with Isshin, Yuzu and Orihime tried to break them up, and Isshin filled in any awkward silences with his boisterous cheer. It seemed like only Ichigo felt anything amiss at all. All throughout the meal, his countenance grew darker and darker, until he was eating with a full-fledged scowl. And out of everyone at the table, only Orihime seemed to notice that something wasn't quite right.

She would often pause in mid-bite to look quizzically at Ichigo, as if to ask if he was alright. Finally, after what felt like the thirtieth such stare, she spoke up.

"Ichigo-kun," she said softly, so the others could barely hear, "Is everything alright? I didn't over-salt the beef, did I?" Ichigo shook his head; it _was_ a bit too salty, but he wasn't going to tell her that.

"It's fine, Inoue," he said flatly, waving off her concerns. From across the table, Karin snorted behind her chopsticks.

"Geez, they sound more like a married couple than you two do," Karin remarked, looking askance at her father, "Better watch it, old man, or she'll leave you for someone younger." Isshin simply grinned as he stroked his sparse beard.

"Now, now, Ichigo," he commented, addressing the source of the problem, "One day, you'll have a woman as beautiful and amazing as your mother, too. Don't be jealous."

That was the last straw. He could almost handle this awkward new situation, but he wouldn't stand for his mother's memory being replaced like that.

Ichigo rose wordlessly, slamming his hands onto the table so hard that the dishes clattered. Without so much as a by-your-leave, he pushed his chair back to go.

"Ichi-nii!" Yuzu cried after him, "Aren't you hungry?"

"I'm fine," he growled, stalking towards the stairs to the second floor.

"But you barely touched your food!" she protested, earning herself an angry glare.

"I said I'm fine!" he yelled over his shoulder, causing the younger girl to pout and Orihime to flinch. He felt a sudden pang of regret at Orihime's pained expression, but shoved it aside; instead, he stomped up the stairs before anyone else could add any of their thoughts to the situation.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** Oedipus Complex – Chapter Three

**Warnings:** het (IchiHime, IsshinHime), May/December relationship

**Disclaimer:** These characters belong to a lot of Japanese people, namely people like Tite Kubo and Shonen Jump. You'll notice how none of those are me. Not responsible for epileptic seizures or allergic reactions. May contain eye-and-brain-bleeding levels of radioactive ANGST and/or peanut products. Please sit a reasonable distance from your computer screen.

* * *

Hours. It had been hours and she still hadn't gone home. The late winter dusk had come and gone long ago, a black velvet curtain falling over Karakura, yet still she stayed. He had been listening, watching for her to leave, but nothing. Did his father really intend for her to stay the night?

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he felt footsteps on the second floor. Slipping the headphones he'd been wearing off, he listened. There was Yuzu's light gait, and there were Karin's heavier footfalls. Following shortly behind were his father's pounding feet, rushing them along to bed. There seemed to be a bit more excitement in the pre-bed preparations tonight, and Ichigo was keenly aware of it.

Of course, much to his dismay, Orihime's softer tones weren't far behind the other three. He could swear he heard her ask where she would be sleeping, only to be answered by his father's cheerful, booming laughter and something too low for Ichigo to make out. His was followed by embarrassed laughter from Orihime and a disgusted exclamation from Karin. Yeah, Ichigo had no doubt what the answer to_ that_ question was.

Finally having had just about enough, Ichigo sat up from where he'd been laying on his bed and threw his headphones back against his pillow. He'd be damned if he was going to stay in the house and risk overhearing his Dad doing _that_ with Orihime. The thought alone made bile rise in his throat, so goodness only knew what he'd do if he stayed. Probably kick his father's door down and beat him to a pulp, he figured.

Another few seconds saw Ichigo ejected from his body by his deputy badge, his human form falling back against his pillows as his soul burst forth. Clad all in black, he was soon lifting his window out of its cradle before jumping onto the overhang of the clinic. He hadn't gotten a hollow alert yet tonight, but it wasn't like he couldn't find one _somewhere_. And if he were in a more generous mood, he might almost feel sorry for whatever poor, misbegotten fallen soul he happened upon first.

* * *

As Ichigo snuck back into his body, he gasped through gritted teeth. The gash and the bruised rib he'd managed to badger out of that last hollow had just sprang fully-formed onto his corporeal form. He had been stupid and careless, and a regular garden-variety hollow had taken a chunk out of him. The way he figured it, he deserved whatever pain came with that.

He was just glad Rukia wasn't here to see this. She'd never let him live it down.

Of course he hadn't spent the _entire_ past five hours fighting hollows. It had been interspersed with long stretches of brooding on dark rooftops and listless pacing.

Even worse, when he finally decided to call it a night, there was nothing he could do about his wounds. Under normal circumstances, he would visit Orihime if she was still awake and ask for her help. By rights, having her under the same roof should've made that easier. But the chance he'd see something he didn't want to see had effectively extinguished that idea.

Still, on his way in, he'd lingered unnecessarily before his father's window, considering waking her. In truth, he'd done that a couple times at her apartment, unwilling to wake her if he needed healing and she was already asleep. Tonight was little different.

She had been sleeping peacefully in a puddle of silver moonlight, her hair spilling over her shoulders and around her head. Her feathered eyelashes rested against the apples of her cheeks, and her mouth was open just enough for her to draw breath. She was wrapped in one of his father's over-sized dress shirts and further tucked beneath the blankets of his bed.

As soon as Ichigo thought he saw her eyes flutter, though, he quickly withdrew before she could notice him. Heart hammering against his bruised ribs, he tumbled through his bedroom window, curses spilling from his mouth.

It was in that state that he reentered his body. He lay staring up at the dark ceiling, his thoughts unwilling to leave the girl in the other room. His head was spinning so badly that sleep was out of the question, but he was too tired to do anything but lie there.

The rest of the night passed in this manner, Ichigo staring at the shadows on the ceiling while the minutes ticked by. Only the pain in his ribs broke the dull monotony, along with the occasional snarl from his hollow. Even though he was still being quiet, Ichigo could tell the white fiend did not approve of their current situation one bit. As if to add to his frustration, Ichigo knew that all of his inner demon's solutions to their problem were violent and graphic.

Sometime shortly before dawn, Ichigo finally drifted into a shallow, dreamless sleep. He hardly even realized he'd fallen asleep, because the next thing he knew, Yuzu's soft voice was calling him from the other side of his door to come down to breakfast. Cracking open one weary, bloodshot eye, Ichigo could see that the sun had already risen and was now streaming in through his still-open window.

It was as if the cheerful, early spring morning was openly mocking him. The sun was shining, the sky was blue, the birds were singing and he hated every bit of it. He reluctantly dragged himself out of bed, willing his leaden legs to function and cursing the pain in his ribs. At least his father hadn't barged in and assaulted him yet.

_'Must be too busy with his new girlfriend,'_ he thought bitterly.

After a quick stop in the bathroom, Ichigo trudged downstairs, not even bothering to change out of his bedclothes. As he made his way down the stairs, he could hear both his sisters talking softly while Orihime hummed. His father's voice was strangely absent, possibly owing to a meeting or an emergency. As he rounded the corner into the kitchen, however, all his frustration from the previous night hit him again like a ton of bricks.

Yuzu and Karin were at the kitchen table, waiting patiently for their breakfast, but it was Orihime that made his chest seize. There she was, spatula in hand, standing before the stove in his father's light blue over-sized button-up shirt, a frilly pink apron that Yuzu sometimes wore... and nothing else. She was happily cooking what smelled to be sweetened scrambled eggs without a care in the world. Ichigo could feel his eye twitch uncontrollably as his hollow stirred in appreciation. He just thought he might die of a nosebleed or maybe an aneurysm.

He stomped directly over to her, nostrils flaring, and tried to keep his voice low enough that his sisters wouldn't overhear.

"Inoue," he ground out, causing her to look up at him and blush at his tone, "What are you... doing?" She simply blinked at him in confusion.

"Cooking tamagoyaki?" she nearly asked as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. And really, Ichigo figured it probably was. Still, this was Orihime and he couldn't quite bring himself to be truly angry with her, but she was damn well trying his patience.

"I can see that," he hissed, "But why are you doing it half-naked?" Orihime blinked once before blushing deeply and moving to cover her nearly-exposed bottom with the back of the shirt.

"Umm..." she stammered, "This is just what I slept in, s-so..."

"Goat chin told her it was sexy," Karin called from the table, her voice bored. Her expression didn't change while her brother cycled through several colors of blush and a few that didn't rightfully even belong on a human being. He was just about to turn teal when Orihime shyly spoke up.

"I-I can put some pants on, i-if you want?" she offered, nearly trembling from the heaviness Ichigo's reiatsu had suddenly gained. Instead, he stomped off, causing Karin to break out into a wide smirk while Yuzu looked after his retreating form, stricken.

"He's about to blow a gasket," Karin said gleefully. Orihime and Yuzu simply fretted.

"Karin-chan!" the older girl nearly whined, her voice laden with concern. Before anything else could be said, Ichigo reentered the room, a wad of clothing tightly held in his fist.

"Here," he said hoarsely, thrusting it at Orihime, "Put these on. I didn't want you to burn the eggs."

She shyly did as she was told while Ichigo took over with the spatula. He was trying so hard not to watch as her shirt rode up her backside while she bent over, that he nearly burnt himself. After another few agonizing seconds, and after Karin almost fell out of her chair laughing at the spectacle, Orihime relieved him of the spatula. She gave him a nervous smile before shooing him back to the table.

Breakfast was alright, if a little awkward. He had never heard of anyone putting leeks into their scrambled eggs before, but it didn't turn out bad. And even if it had, he'd have still found a way to choke it down just so he wouldn't have to talk any more than was necessary. And yes, no matter how hard he tried to deny it to himself, he also didn't want to disappoint Orihime. Just one of her kicked puppy looks would probably have him eating squid and tapioca soup or something equally bizarre.

After the rather awkward affair called breakfast, Ichigo left the table without a word. He ignored the confused, hurt looks Orihime and Yuzu were giving him as best he could, and made a beeline for his room. Once there, he threw on the first clothes he could find in his drawer and headed for the front door. There was somewhere he needed to go.


	4. Chapter 4

**Title:** Oedipus Complex – Chapter Four

**Warnings:** het (IchiHime, IsshinHime), May/December relationship

**Disclaimer:** These characters belong to a lot of Japanese people, namely people like Tite Kubo and Shonen Jump. You'll notice how none of those are me. Not responsible for epileptic seizures or allergic reactions. May contain eye-and-brain-bleeding levels of radioactive ANGST and/or peanut products. Please sit a reasonable distance from your computer screen.

* * *

"I need to talk to you."

The sandy-blond, shaggy-haired man raised an eyebrow beneath his striped bucket hat. His entire expression bespoke incredulity, as though Ichigo had just said the sky was blue or the grass was green.

"Obviously," Urahara observed drily from behind his fan, shielding his smirk, "It must be urgent for you to leave the house in _that_, Kurosaki-san."

Ichigo spared an exasperated glance downwards. In his rush to get out of the house, he'd thrown on the first things he'd laid hands on. As such, he'd wound up in a wrinkled green t-shirt, purple pants, and red shoes. He sighed and slapped his forehead, hoping no one had seen him on his way here. That was all he needed now.

"Forget what I'm wearing," he grumbled, raking his fingers through his hair, "I have a problem and I don't know who else to ask."

"You don't need to buy medicine from me, you know," Urahara commented, poking the bruise Ichigo'd been concealing beneath his shirt, "Inoue-san will heal you for free. Although if you _want_ to waste your money with me, you're more than welcome to..." Ichigo sighed and leaned forward. He rested his forehead in his hands, the elbows of which were perched on the low table Urahara had seated them at.

"That's just the problem," Ichigo groaned miserably, "Inoue..." Urahara's expression was still interested, but he was also still hiding it behind his fan.

"Ahh, Kurosaki-san is having girl problems," he observed, not without a little glee in his voice. Ichigo glared over at him mutinously between his hands.

"She's going to marry my dad next week," Ichigo said, probably more miserably than he'd meant to. It wasn't like he could bring himself to care at this point, though. Urahara's eyebrows disappeared completely beneath his hat.

"And you're jealous," Urahara observed evenly. Ichigo released his forehead and slammed his fists on the table.

"I'm not jealous!" He yelled. Urahara didn't even flinch.

"Then what's the problem?" The ex-captain asked. Ichigo balked at him openly.

"What's the problem?" He repeated incredulously, "She's... She's _Inoue_ and he's _Dad_, that's the problem! She's my age!" Urahara finally lowered his fan, snapping it shut.

"You do realize that your father is pretty old, being a shinigami and all, right?" Urahara observed calmly, "Any human girl he decided to date would be much younger than him."

"You're not helping as much as you think you are," Ichigo ground out between his teeth. He _really _didn't want to think of the age difference between his mom and dad right now.

"What I'm saying is, as long as it's legal, you should give him a break," Urahara said lightly, "If he and Inoue-san are in love, then..."

"They're not in love, and it's still gross," Ichigo snapped, "It doesn't matter how old he is, he has a son her age. And she only agreed to marry him because he _asked_. It's messed up."

"Well," Urahara mused, his sing-song voice making Ichigo's eye twitch again, "Maybe he figured your sisters could use a mother figure?"

"Yeah?" Ichigo snapped, "Then why's he sleeping with her? She could be a mother figure to them without marrying him!" Urahara's unflappable demeanor was only serving to make Ichigo even angrier.

"I don't know many men who could resist the temptation to sleep with Inoue-san," Urahara observed philosophically, "But it seems like you only have a problem with it because it's Inoue-san..."

"Yes!"

"Then you're jealous."

"No!"

"Then what do you call it?"

Ichigo paused in his wrath, perplexed by the question. He couldn't be jealous - he'd _wanted_ Orihime to find someone else, right? Just... Not his dad.

"I don't... I don't know," he admitted begrudgingly, "But I'm _not _jealous."

"If you say so," Urahara waved him off, his eyes betraying the fact that he didn't really believe him, "But if _you_ dated her, she'd still be a big sister figure to your sisters. Your father probably wouldn't mind; like you said, there's no love there, right?"

"I don't want to date her!" Ichigo bluted out defensively, his face staining a deep red, "I just... Don't want her to date _him!_" At this point, Urahara seemed to have grown bored.

"Well, that's childish," Urahara said with a yawn, "Why don't you get one of your school friends to date her instead?"

Ichigo stared at his hands, still feeling his cheeks overheat. Would he be able to do that? The annoyed grumbling from his hollow told him all he needed to know. Besides, he'd already beat up all those guys at school who thought they were going out; could he really leave protecting her from assholes like that to someone like Uryuu? Chad might be able to handle it, but he already caught enough crap just because he looked tough. He didn't need more problems because Ichigo was being too chickenshit to solve his own problems.

He sighed heavily, giving Urahara a weary look.

"So you're saying this is my problem," Ichigo finally admitted. Urahara hummed his ascent with a small smirk.

"Fine," Ichigo nearly whined, "I'll fix it myself! But... I guess I'll buy some medicine while I'm here."

* * *

"I'm home..."

It was almost noon before Ichigo came trudging back through the door of his family's clinic. His spirits were even lower than when he left, if that was even possible. He had spent the past hour wandering around town in the chilly, pre-spring air without a coat. He was also fairly sure his reputation was ruined with the horrible outfit he'd flung on in his rush to leave the house, but he hoped he'd looked sick enough that everyone would attribute it to that. Hopefully, the paper bag of medicine he'd gotten from Urahara had completed the appearence.

As soon as he came through the door and looked up, though, he knew his wandering had been a mistake. He was immediately met by a pair of large, honey brown doe eyes, staring up at him tearfully.

"Ichigo-kun..."

He froze in place, hiding the bag behind his back. Sadly, he could not ever hide the fact that he was injured from Orihime. At this point, she'd seen him with so many injuries that she could _sense_ when he was hurt. Ichigo sighed; he should've known better.

Fortunately for his nerves (and his hormones), Orihime had changed out of his dad's shirt and was now in her own clothes, one of her familiar clingy cotton blouses paired with a long, flowery skirt. She'd even braided her hair into two long pigtails, pulled to either side of her face. She looked so painfully sweet that it made Ichigo's heart ache.

"I'm fine," he grumbled, his voice softer than he'd intended. Orihime looked unconvinced.

"You've been hurt all morning," she said gently, "Let me heal you."

"You don't have to," he mumbled, trying to move past her. Instead, she laid her hand on his chest and fixed him with a pleading look. And then Ichigo knew he was done for.

The house was eerily quiet as she led him upstairs to his bedroom. Ichigo figured his sisters were gone for the morning and his father had never returned from whereever he'd gone off to, leaving the house to just him and Orihime. From the smell of things, she'd been cleaning when he came back. Even so, as they wordlessly entered his room, she looked fretful. Had he worried her that badly this morning?

"Lay down, okay?" She said quietly, motioning to his bed. Ichigo did as he was told for once, laying on the bright blue bedspread and turning his face towards the wall. Orihime pulled his desk chair over and sat facing him. Without another word, he felt Orihime's golden healing dome surround him.

It was as if he'd forgotten how warm and just plain _good_ that power of hers felt. His tensed muscles, which had caused his hands and stomach to clench, were slowly relaxing into that golden light. Her faint scent surrounded him, vanilla and milk soothing his senses. He felt his weary eyelids droop as he was quickly lulled into a doze. In fact, had it not been for Orihime's voice, he'd have simply melted into unconsciousness then and there.

"Ichigo-kun?" She asked softly, barely more than a whisper. Ichigo acknowledged her by turning his head towards her voice, but he still did not open his eyes. Instead, he hummed an inquery, content to enjoy the feeling of being mended by her powers.

"Are you... Are you angry with me?"

This caused him to crack an eye open and look at her. Her pretty brown eyes seemed to be shimmering with unshed tears and her lips were pursed to keep them from trembling. She was fisting her skirt in her hands, twisting the fabric nervously. At the sight of her distressed face, Ichigo felt a sudden pang of guilt jolt him out of his relaxation. He had been acting out, and it had worried her.

"I can't be angry with you, Inoue," he murmured, looking away and hoping the healing shield would disguise his blush.

"Then why...?"

"I don't want you to marry my dad," Ichigo stated firmly, but softly, "That's all." Silence fell between the two for a long while, as though Orihime was waiting for something.

"Am I... Not good enough?" She finally asked, her voice quivering as she forced back a sob. Ichigo regarded her with a pained look. Wasn't this what Urahara had told him to do? He'd stated what he wanted clearly, but then she took it like that-!

"Of course you are," he replied defensively, moving to sit up, "But it's... It's just not right..." She reached over to push him back down onto his back, leaning over and brushing him with her generous breasts in the process.

"I-If you don't want me in your family, I understand," she said quietly, "But please give me a chance? I'll be a good wife for your father, I promise." Ichigo fought back a blush; she was nearly on top of him now, watery eyes half-lidded. If circumstances had been different, maybe they would...

"It's not that!" He protested weakly. But it was no good; Orihime was giving him that pleading, searching look again, as if she was waiting on him to do something. But what?

It really wasn't that Ichigo didn't_ want_ Orihime around. He enjoyed her presence and appreciated her skill at healing. There was just something about being around her that soothed him. In fact, it was that simple fact that had made him start pushing her away; since when had he deserved something so good? Anything as sweet as Orihime would just end badly for him. Hueco Mundo taught him that.

Still, the more he thought about her with his father, the angrier it made him. Why him? Why not one of the guys in school? But once again, Ichigo came to the same conclusion he had reached at Urahara's; he didn't want to think about her with _any_ other man.

"I have to go finish the chores," Orihime finally said softly, rising. Ichigo felt like he'd said completely the wrong thing, once again. At this rate, he might as well just lodge his foot in his mouth and leave it there. A second later, she'd left him alone again, except for her fairies. If he wasn't imagining things, the one closest to his head was giving him a piteous look.

"What?" He asked gruffly, causing the red-clad fairy to ruffle slightly. The blond blushed a bit at finally being acknowledged after so long, but went back to what he was doing.

"Orihime is trying her best," the little blond with the top-knot chirped sadly, "She really just wants to make you happy." Ichigo turned away from the tiny creature. Great, now he was blushing, too. But what could he say to him? He was sure that whatever they discussed would be relayed back to Orihime, one way or the other.

"She _does_ make me happy," he finally murmured.

"But you're not happy now," the fairy, Ichigo thought his name was Shun'o, observed. Ichigo sighed; he was determined to drag something out of him one way or the other.

"I'm not jealous, okay?" Ichigo cut him off before he could even try, "I just don't like it. That's all." The fairy fretted.

"You could stop everything if you wanted to," Shun'o pointed out, causing Ichigo to roll to his side to face away from him. Ichigo was perfectly well aware that he was Orihime's first choice. In practicality, however, that didn't matter.

"I can't do that," he grumbled, "She deserves someone that can take better care of her than I can." The fairy put his hands on his hips and did his best impression of Ichigo's own scowl.

"You take care of her just fine," the blond huffed, causing Ichigo to roll back over and glare at him. He sat up suddenly, towering over the smaller male.

"She deserves someone that doesn't have a psychotic monster living inside of them, okay?" He barked, startling the fairy and causing him to shrink behind his over-sized red wings, "There, I said it! Are you happy?"

"You know she doesn't care about that," Shun'o mumbled, still hiding his mouth behind one of his wings, "She knows he won't hurt her. He's a part of _you_." Ichigo flopped back down into the gossamer healing shield and covered his eyes with his arm. Even if the thing talking to him looked like a boy, it was still part of Orihime and still painfully naïve. Even worse, his words had Ichigo's hollow moving again; even though he was still silent, Ichigo could tell he was feeling smug about something.

"Just shut up and keep healing me," he mumbled. Even though he was perfectly fine now, he was unwilling to leave the warmth of that comforting golden dome. And it wasn't long after those words left his mouth that he fell off to sleep entirely.


	5. Chapter 5

**Title:** Oedipus Complex – Chapter Five

**Warnings:** het (IchiHime, IsshinHime), May/December relationship

**Spoilers:** Through current chapters (418)

**Disclaimer:** These characters belong to a lot of Japanese people, namely people like Tite Kubo and Shonen Jump. You'll notice how none of those are me. Not responsible for epileptic seizures or allergic reactions. May contain eye-and-brain-bleeding levels of radioactive ANGST and/or peanut products. Please sit a reasonable distance from your computer screen.

**Author's Notes:** I apologize for the delay! I got really busy with IRL things yesterday and couldn't update like I'd wanted to! But at least my house is really clean now! XD

* * *

Ichigo slept most of that evening and into the night. Only when the house was quiet again did he dare venture back out of his room, for fear he'd see or hear something else he didn't want to. Orihime's fairies had left him long before he woke back up, leaving him in relative silence the rest of the evening.

In fact, the only person he could even remotely tolerate at the moment was Kon, and that was saying something. While the obnoxious plushie was thrilled at the prospect of Orihime living with them, he too was irritated at the idea of her being married off to Ichigo's crazy old man. Ichigo just hoped he didn't sound as deranged as Kon did about it. Either way, the plushie did nothing to improve his mood, even if he _was_ the only person in his corner on this.

Well, him and Shun'o, but he wasn't sure he exactly counted.

Seeing as he'd finally gotten some rest and couldn't go back to sleep just yet, he started in on his homework. Unfortunately, that only lasted a short hour or two, and before he'd tired himself out again, he was done.

Having nothing else to do, he flopped back on the bed, pillowing his head on his folded arms. If Sunday went the same way Saturday had, he thought he might go completely out of his head. After watching the ceiling for nearly an hour, his eyes finally started to droop closed as he slipped into unconsciousness.

Instead of a dream, however, Ichigo found himself inside his inner world again. Unlike the other times he'd been, it was no longer clear and sunny or full of water. No, his inner world was currently experiencing a _monsoon_.

"Great," he muttered to himself, using his pinky to pull some water out of his ear, "Why is this place never normal?" He wasn't too intent on thinking hard about the fact that his inner world was always screwed up in some way, or what that said about him.

"_It reflects your emotions,_" a stern older voice sounded from behind Ichigo. Zangetsu had reverted to his original form since the last time Ichigo had seen him, that of a scruffy older man in shades and a tattered black tarp.

"I don't need you to tell me I'm having a bad day," he grumbled, turning away from his sword's spirit and trying to ignore the torrential rain soaking through his clothes. Before he could just tune everything out, he felt a firm hand grasp the back of his head and sling him face-first into the skyscraper he had been sitting on.

A shower of concrete and broken glass flew up from the site of Ichigo's impact, the debris falling back down on him with the heavy rain. After a moment, he shook off his stupor and pushed himself up, spitting out fragments of glass as he spun around. Naturally, his assailant was none other than his hollow.

"What the hell is your problem?"

"_**My**_** problem?**" The hollow sneered, not even bothering to pull the white, bandage-wrapped sword off his back, "**What the hell is **_**your**_** problem?**" At this, Ichigo stood and brushed himself off, facing his scowling white counterpart.

"_You're_ my problem, asshole!" He yelled, finally venting some of his pent-up anger, "If it wasn't for you, I could... I could..."

"**You could what? Pull your head outta your ass?**" Ichigo tried not to show it, but he was slightly confused.

"What is that supposed to mean?" he barked back, intent on arguing now. The hollow looked less than impressed.

"**Why do you think we pulled you in here?**" he asked, crossing his arms, "**Why do you think it's storming in here? You really are thick as shit, you know that, Ichigo?**" Now it was Ichigo's turn to look unimpressed.

"I don't want to hear it," Ichigo cut him off impatiently.

"**That's exactly why you're in here, you fucking idiot!**" the hollow roared, "**It's that damn broad! Wake the fuck up, Ichigo!**" Ichigo's frayed nerves were having none of this. Between the glass, the yelling, and the rain, he was ready to snap.

"You leave her out of this!" he screamed, feeling his voice tear his throat, "If you've got a problem with her, I'll settle it right now!" He felt a small twinge go through his chest; even though she was marrying his father, Ichigo couldn't help defending her.

"**If **_**I've**_** got a problem?**" The hollow spat, "**I'm not the one moping and whining everywhere like a little bitch, now am I? Face it, Ichigo - you got it bad for this girl.**" At this, the hollow allowed himself a grin. Ichigo didn't appreciate the sentiment.

"That's none of your damn business," he muttered, fists balled in rage.

"**Of course it's my damn business!**" the hollow shouted back, his cockiness replaced by anger, "**I have to live in your sorry-ass head, with your sorry-ass weather! You think I **_**like**_** this crap? You think he likes it?**" At this, the hollow gestured to Zangetsu, who likewise did not seem to be enjoying the rain in the slightest.

"**Unfuck yourself, Ichigo, and do it soon,**" he continued, "**Or I'll do it for you.**" Upon hearing this ultimatum, Ichigo felt his shredded temper slipping even further away.

"What the hell am I supposed to do?" he bellowed, a hint of desperation just under the surface of his voice, "This entire situation is completely screwed up! He's my father!" The hollow looked unimpressed. His indifference really wasn't helping Ichigo's mental state.

"**So?**"

"So, I can't just steal his fiancee!" his fingers were in his hair now, clutching the vibrant orange strands as though they could help him hang onto his slipping sanity.

"**She was our woman first, dumbass,**" the hollow deadpanned, "**Stop being such a fucking pussy and take back what's ours. The only reason she's even with him is because you're too damn good to man up and make a move.**"

Ichigo hated it, but the hollow was right. He'd been ignoring her on purpose, hoping the situation would resolve itself on its own. In reality, though, it hadn't fixed anything. Still, how could he just tell her that he was scared of hurting her? It would sound like a complete cop-out.

"I can't," Ichigo finally said, thoroughly miserable as he sat back down in the rain, "If I lose control of you, and you hurt her, I'd never forgive myself." The hollow simply sneered at his misery before lifting one waraji-ed foot and kicking him squarely in the head. Ichigo went skidding unceremoniously towards the top of the skyscraper.

"**Stop being so fucking pitiful!**" the hollow screamed, "**You think **_**I'd**_** hurt her? You're doing a good enough job of that on your own!**" This time, Ichigo simply lay against the cool glass, the hollow's word sinking in.

"**And unlike you, I take care of what's ours,**" the hollow concluded with a sneer. When Ichigo didn't respond, he turned his back on him.

"**Fine,**" he snarled, "**If you wanna keep being a little bitch and feeling sorry for yourself, go ahead. Watch her marry someone else, and maybe if you're lucky, some other broad'll take pity on your stupid ass someday.**" He then turned back to Zangetsu.

"**Old man, I tried.**"

Zangetsu simply nodded. Their master, on the other hand, lay limply against the wet glass of his mind's skyscraper, letting the hollow's words bounce around in his head. He was really going to lose Orihime, and it was all his fault.


	6. Chapter 6

**Title:** Oedipus Complex – Chapter Six

**Warnings:** het (IchiHime, IsshinHime), May/December relationship

**Spoilers:** Through current chapters (418)

**Disclaimer:** These characters belong to a lot of Japanese people, namely people like Tite Kubo and Shonen Jump. You'll notice how none of those are me. Not responsible for epileptic seizures or allergic reactions. May contain eye-and-brain-bleeding levels of radioactive ANGST and/or peanut products. Please sit a reasonable distance from your computer screen.

**Author's Notes:** I had some delicious Mongolian BBQ today! ...That's all, really.

* * *

Ichigo let Sunday pass him by, not bothering to leave his room for anything other than food, a shower, and bathroom breaks. It was just as well; he had no desire to speak to anyone under their roof at the moment, least of all Orihime or his father. He just couldn't face them.

He knew he was being unreasonable. He knew he should be happy for them and wish them well like everyone else seemed to be doing. And maybe he was the one with the problem after all. But if he had a problem, what was it and why couldn't he fix it? That stupid hollow _couldn't_ have been right.

So when Rukia came tumbling through his bedroom window late Sunday afternoon, Ichigo was so discouraged that he barely wanted to bring it up. In fact, he barely even registered her arrival from his spot on the bed.

"Good evening, Ichigo," she began, smoothing the skirts on her gigai down before noticing his morose posture, "My goodness! What's eating you?" Had Ichigo been so inclined, he'd probably have raised an eyebrow at the colloquialism - she must've been reading crime novels again - but as it was, he just couldn't get up the effort.

"Nothin'," he grumbled into his pillow, hoping she'd take the hint and leave already. Instead, she proceeded to poke around through his room like usual, ignoring his obvious displeasure.

"Have you seen Inoue this weekend?" Rukia asked nonchalantly, opening one of his desk drawers to examine a pen, "I stopped by her place earlier, but the neighbors said she had been out since Friday." Ichigo stifled a groan.

"She's downstairs with Dad," he ground out, "Watching cooking shows or something." Rukia stopped testing the pen she'd pilfered on Ichigo's calculus notebook and looked at him curiously.

"And you aren't with her?" she asked, voice lilting in curiosity, "My, this is unexpected! Is having a girl in your house all weekend not generally considered scandalous for a human teenage boy?" Ichigo rolled his eyes; he supposed that was Rukia's way of commenting on the unusualness of the situation.

"She's with my Dad," Ichigo repeated, hoping she'd get the hint and he wouldn't have to explain. But luck was not with him and Rukia simply looked at him curiously.

"You mean she's his guest?"

"No, I mean she's _with_ him," Ichigo said impatiently, "As in, they're getting married." Rukia's mouth formed a little "o" in recognition.

"And... you're okay with that?" Rukia asked, her tone genuinely startled. Ichigo grunted to himself. Why did they keep asking him things like that?

"Of course I am," he grunted, not sounding the least bit convincing, "I'm all sunshine and friggin' rainbows, aren't I?" The sarcasm was lost on Rukia, who simply cocked her head to the side.

"Well, in that case, good for them," she said with a smile, "I believe Inoue was lonely by herself, so this will be an improvement for her." Ichigo sighed and buried his face in his pillow again. Of _course_ Rukia would take his dad's side.

"How is becoming a sixteen year-old housewife an improvement?" Ichigo asked dryly, the pillow muffling his voice.

"Sixteen is old enough to get married, isn't it?" she asked innocently, causing Ichigo to groan.

"Not this again," he growled, "She's not a shinigami, Rukia, she's a human, and she's still too young to get married. Especially to someone my father's age. Sixteen has been too young to get married for at _least_ the past hundred years."

"I thought you said you were fine with it?" she asked skeptically.

"That was _sarcasm_," Ichigo corrected her, "I am pretty obviously not okay with this." It was almost as though a light bulb went off above Rukia's head as she plopped down onto Ichigo's bed.

"You're jealous!" Rukia exclaimed in delight. Ichigo wanted to hit his head against the wall until he lost consciousness.

"I am _not_ jealous!" he roared, finally roused from his torpor. Rukia was sadly undeterred.

"Wait till I tell Renji!" she crowed happily, "Ichigo's finally gotten jealous over a girl! Our little boy is growing up!" He wasn't sure if she was teasing or not, although he suspected she was. Either way, he was seriously reconsidering his usual stance on hitting girls.

"I'm _not_ jealous, and don't tell Renji that!" he yelled. If he had to deal with Renji's mockery, he might finally snap and actually really hurt someone.

"ICHIGO!"

Ichigo winced as the door flew open, revealing his disgruntled-looking father and a meek Orihime standing behind him. Rukia stared at them in wonder.

"What's all this racket?" the older man barked, "First you mope all day, now you're yelling your fool head off! Oh, hello, Rukia-chan!" Ichigo felt a bit dizzy at the sudden switch in disposition, but chose to continue staring mutinously at his father.

"Kuchiki-san, what are you doing up here?" Orihime asked politely.

"She doesn't know how to use the front door," Ichigo observed with no small degree of irritation, not taking his eyes off his old man. He wasn't even doing it on purpose, but he couldn't contain the slightly murderous impulse his father's presence was bringing out in him. He vaguely realized his reiatsu was slowly creeping up and his hollow was getting restless, as well.

"Good evening, Isshin-san, Inoue," Rukia said politely, ignoring Ichigo's foul mood, "I understand there's going to be a wedding?"

"Oho, he told you the happy news?" Isshin said jovially, also ignoring Ichigo's ever-darkening countenance, "That's right, Rukia-chan! You're going to have a sexy new mother!" And then Isshin slung his arm around Orihime's much smaller shoulders and Ichigo felt what was left of his self-control splinter.

"OUT!" he screamed, jumping up from his bed and pushing the sources of his irritation out of his room, "OUT, OUT, OUT!"

"Ichigo, what's wrong?"

"Ichigo-kun?"

"Ichigo, you're scaring Orihime-chan!"

"GET THE HELL OUT!" he continued, no longer caring if he frightened Orihime or pissed off his father, "And stay out!" He slammed the door hard enough to splinter the frame and leaned heavily against it. His shoulders heaved as he huffed, feeling his eyes hurt. Had they started turning black? He swore under his breath; it was almost like they were doing it on purpose.

As his heartbeat faded from his ears, he could hear the commotion outside. His sisters had heard the noise and come to investigate, and he could hear Rukia and his father trying to calm them down. Far quieter and less frequent was Orihime's gentle voice, which sounded to be on the verge of tears. She would speak, followed by Rukia or his father trying to comfort her.

As Ichigo's adrenaline rush faded, the full impact of what had just happened settled on him. He had scared Orihime to the point of tears. He'd thrown Rukia and his father out of his room and slammed the door in their faces. He'd worried his sisters. And on top of everything else, the sight of Orihime with his father had almost brought his hollow out. He felt worse than a monster right then. He felt like an absolute jackass.


	7. Chapter 7

**Title:** Oedipus Complex – Chapter Seven  
**Warnings:** het (IchiHime, IsshinHime), May/December relationship  
**Spoilers:** Through current chapters (418)

**Disclaimer:** These characters belong to a lot of Japanese people, namely people like Tite Kubo and Shonen Jump. You'll notice how none of those are me. Not responsible for epileptic seizures or allergic reactions. May contain eye-and-brain-bleeding levels of radioactive ANGST and/or peanut products. Please sit a reasonable distance from your computer screen.

**Author's Notes:** And we had Ruby Tuesdays today! Although now Labor Day is over. Aww. :(

* * *

Breakfast the next morning was sullen and quiet. Even Isshin wasn't being his normal obnoxious self, for which Ichigo was exceedingly grateful. Rukia had left earlier the night before to return to Soul Society - she had only been there for a short visit - and Karin and Yuzu were practically walking on eggshells around him. For her part, Orihime had come down to cook already in her school uniform and had cast Ichigo fretful, guilty looks all throughout the meal.

By the time he was ready to leave for school, Ichigo couldn't get away from the house fast enough. Unfortunately, Orihime was going exactly the same way and walked along with him, even after Mizuiro met him on the front stoop.

"Wow," the black-haired boy whistled, "Did I just see Inoue-san walk out of your house, Ichigo?" Even if she was too young for his tastes, Ichigo knew Mizuiro could still appreciate just how popular and sought-after Orihime was. The girl in question said nothing, opting to blush shyly instead.

"Don't talk about her like she's not even here," Ichigo grumbled, "And yes, she spent the weekend with us." Mizuiro gave a low whistle at this information.

"That's some grist for the rumor mill," he remarked, casually pulling his phone out of his pocket. No sooner had he flipped it open than Ichigo reached over and calmly took it from him.

"Grist that you will not be spreading around," Ichigo said in a warning tone. He wasn't sure what to tell the folks at school just yet. He knew he had to tell Tatsuki at a minimum; she might be his only way out of this mess. But there was no way he wanted Mizuiro spreading wild rumors about Orihime being at his house. They'd probably be less bizarre than the truth anyway.

"It's okay, Ichigo-kun," Orihime said quietly from behind them, "You can tell Kojima-kun." Ichigo froze and looked at Orihime as though she'd just grown flowers out of her ears. Mizuiro simply looked intrigued. He even cast Ichigo a curious look over the use of his given name.

"Tell me what, Inoue-san?" he asked politely.

"I'm marrying Ichigo-kun's father at the end of this week," she said quietly, and perhaps a bit sadly, Ichigo thought. Mizuiro's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline.

"I didn't know you liked older men, Inoue-san," he remarked evenly. Ichigo wanted to roll his eyes, but even that was too much effort.

"Yeah, now you have something in common," Ichigo grunted, determined to tune the rest of the conversation out. Mizuiro looked a bit ruffled at that remark.

"I like older _women_, Ichigo," he corrected, "There are differences." As Ichigo cast him a scathing look, Mizuiro reached over and took his phone back from him. "I'll need that back, thank you."

Unsurprisingly, he immediately began texting. Ichigo snorted and tuned the other two out as Orihime made nervous idle chit-chat to fill the silence.

The rest of the morning wasn't much different, dragging past in a hazy, empty blur. Ichigo barely registered their teachers or his friends' usual antics. Most of his time was spent staring morosely out the classroom window or at Orihime's back. He was sure he looked like a particularly love-sick puppy, but he didn't care - he was officially miserable.

So it came as no surprise when he pulled Tatsuki aside during lunch that the first words out of her mouth were:

"Wow, Ichigo, you look like crap."

Ichigo regarded her with a look that clearly said he was well aware of the state of his appearance. He knew his hair was less-than-perfect and that he had bags under his bloodshot eyes. In all honesty, he probably looked like a particularly ripe zombie, but he was trying not to think about it.

"I don't need to hear that from you," he grunted, fixing Tatsuki with the same baleful glare he'd been casting at everyone that morning.

"Yeah, well what do you need?" She asked, "What'd you wanna talk to me about?"

"I need your help," he started. He'd barely said the words before Tatsuki spoke again.

"You need _my_ help?" Tatsuki asked sarcastically, "Now this is a development!" Ichigo sighed in frustration.

"I apologized for that already!" he reminded her, "But yes, I really do need your help. Just... hear me out, alright?" Tatsuki looked somewhat bored, but allowed him to continue.

"Inoue's marrying my dad."

Tatsuki's expression didn't change. As the seconds ticked by, Ichigo lost more and more hope.

"I know."

"You... You know?" he finally sputtered, "How the hell can you be so calm, then? She's marrying a guy old enough to be her father! And she's just in high school!" Tatsuki shrugged.

"That's her choice, Ichigo," she reminded him, "She's not the first high school girl with an older boyfriend. And it's not like anyone else worth a damn has shown any interest in her. And isn't he a _lot_ older than that anyway?" Ichigo didn't miss Tatsuki's pointed look from her statements.

"So?" he countered defensively, purposely ignoring the last part, "She has her whole life ahead of her! She doesn't need to marry him and become a mother at sixteen!" Tatsuki smiled as though she knew something he didn't.

"Actually," she corrected, "She said they were going to wait until she finished high school before trying for any rugrats." Ichigo's face lit up like a firecracker.

"They can't do that!"

"And why not?" Tatsuki asked, hand on hip, "Plenty of people do it just fine. Plus, I'll get to babysit."

"Because they... she... I just don't want them to!" Ichigo was fully aware of how utterly lame he sounded, but at the moment he didn't care. The thought of Orihime and his dad spawning was too much for him.

"Why?" Tatsuki asked pointedly, "It's not like _you_ like her or anything, right? Why wouldn't you want her to be happy?" Ichigo was once again confronted with this. Why was he being so selfish? Was he really the one with the problem after all? Screw it, why even bother trying to fight it anymore?

"No, I..." he began, fully tripping over his every word, "I _do_ like her! I just... it's complicated!" Well, that was substantially easier to admit than he thought. And if he wasn't mistaken, he thought he saw Tatsuki grin faintly.

"Well, better uncomplicate it before Friday," Tatsuki said, turning to leave, "Otherwise, you just gotta deal with it." She waved at him over her shoulder as she went to meet her friends for lunch.

Ichigo's shoulders slumped in defeat. He could take out someone with the powers of a god, could turn Soul Society and Hueco Mundo upside down if need be, yet he couldn't just admit that he liked a girl. And it looked like he was really all alone in this matter. He could ask Chad or Uryuu for help, but he suspected their answers would be similar. Plus, he was never keen on giving Uryuu something to lord over him anyway.

He just had to suck it up and deal with it himself.


	8. Chapter 8

**Title:** Oedipus Complex – Chapter Eight  
**Warnings:** het (IchiHime, IsshinHime), May/December relationship  
**Spoilers:** Through current chapters (418)

**Disclaimer:** These characters belong to a lot of Japanese people, namely people like Tite Kubo and Shonen Jump. You'll notice how none of those are me. Not responsible for epileptic seizures or allergic reactions. May contain eye-and-brain-bleeding levels of radioactive ANGST and/or peanut products. Please sit a reasonable distance from your computer screen.

* * *

After walking home in fragile silence with Orihime, Ichigo had gone straight to his room to steel himself for what he had to do. He'd ignored the piteous looks she'd given him and only grunted in response to anything she asked him. He was vaguely aware that he was worrying her, but at the moment he didn't care - he needed to brace his nerves for this.

He was about to stab his own father in the back and steal his fiancée.

Ichigo had planned the scenario out perfectly in his head. He'd come down before dinner while she was cooking and send Yuzu and Karin out of the room. Then he'd wrap his arms around her from behind and whisper in her ear. He'd tell her to leave his father to be with him. He'd even apologize for everything bad he'd done over the past three months; anything if she would just say yes. Ichigo was hardly a romantic, but even he had to admit that this plan was perfect.

So it should have come as absolutely no surprise to him that something would screw it up. Or more accurately, some_one_.

The first thing he noticed when he came downstairs was that the kitchen was relatively quiet. There was the soft sound of people talking, but his sisters were already gone. Maybe Orihime was on the phone? That would certainly make things easier.

But as he reached the bottom of the stairs and got a clear view of the kitchen, he saw why.

There, sitting on the kitchen table was Orihime, leaning forward to receive a kiss from Isshin. He even had his hand on her thigh, still covered by her pleated school skirt. And at this sight, all of Ichigo's well-laid plans disintegrated as the last of his self-control splintered and broke entirely.

"YOU!" he bellowed, grabbing his old man by the back of the shirt and dragging him with him, "Outside, now!"

"Ichigo, what-?"

"Ichigo-kun, don't-!"

"Out of the damn gigai!" Ichigo demanded, "And get outside!" He jerked Isshin around to glare at him. The old man simply faced him with a menacing grin.

"Are you challenging me over Orihime-chan, son?" he asked, a wicked glint in his eyes. Ichigo knew his dad could probably kick his ass if he'd fully recovered his reiatsu after his stunt in the dangai, but he wasn't about to let that intimidate him. This was more important than an ass-kicking.

"I'm doing what I should've done Friday," he growled, slapping his shinigami representative badge to his chest and pulling himself away from his body. At this, Orihime gasped and hopped off the table to run to him and catch his slumping body.

"Kuro- Ichigo-kun, don't do this!" she pleaded frantically. Isshin held out a hand to signal for her to stay back while pulling a dispenser of Soul Candy out of his jacket.

"It's alright, Orihime-chan," he said firmly, never taking his eyes off his fuming son, "This is something Ichigo has to do. Right, _son_?" Ichigo might have been oblivious to some things, but he knew a challenge when he heard one.

"That's right, old man," Ichigo growled, "You and me, outside. Now." There was a pop as Isshin left his gigai to its new mod soul, pulling away fully-dressed in his shinigami garb.

"Watch Orihime-chan," he ordered it, following Ichigo to the door. His possessed body saluted as they disappeared, leaving the distressed girl alone with him and Ichigo's body.

Out in the street, the sun had already set for the evening. It was still too early in the year for the sun to stay up much past the time Ichigo got home from school. But that was alright with him; this way, whatever damage he and Isshin accrued would go unnoticed.

As a nearby streetlight flickered to life, Isshin emerged from the house, leaping into the road and causing spiderweb cracks in the pavement to form under his feet.

"You're going to piss the neighbors off if you keep showing off like that, old man," Ichigo remarked, his voice lacking any hint of amusement. Isshin grinned lopsidedly as Ichigo unsheathed Zangetsu, bandages unfurling behind him.

"They'll live," he remarked casually, "Anyway, it took you long enough to do this. What's wrong, Ichigo? Jealous?" Ichigo's face darkened at the provocation. But he was past the point of caring what anyone thought about it.

"Maybe I am," he said, voice low and dangerous.

"I thought you wanted her to move on to someone else," Isshin teased, pushing Engetsu loose from his sheath with a click, "Don't tell me you changed your mind!"

"I did," Ichigo said firmly, "I realized what I was doing wrong. Now I'm going to beat you and take Inoue back, if she'll have me." Isshin huffed a laugh as he lowered his eyes.

"That's pretty confident of you, Ichigo," he said with a smirk, "Alright, then. If you can beat me, she's yours. But no bankai, and no mask. Deal?" Ichigo smirked back, unintentionally mirroring his father's expression.

"I don't need it to take you down," Ichigo replied, his tone unduly cocky, "Let's go, old man!"

Anyone spiritually sensitive within a kilometer radius heard what happened next. Both men flew at each other, full-tilt, sparks flying from their swords as they clashed. Reiatsu poured off them in waves, bathing their street battlefield in a deep, heavy aura. Had any weaker people ventured out into their arena, they'd have been driven to their knees instantly.

At the moment, however, only Karin, Yuzu, and Orihime were watching. Isshin's mod soul had draped himself over Orihime's shoulders, fretfully watching the two monsters duel. Even though Yuzu couldn't see the two men clearly, she could definitely feel the heat radiating off them and was vaguely following them with her eyes. Orihime and Karin could see them clearly, the former wringing her hands fretfully while the latter whistled appreciatively.

"I didn't know the old goat had it in him," she remarked in awe. Even Kon had leaned out Ichigo's window to spectate.

"Go Ichigo!" The plushie cheered, waving his stubby paws, "Kick his ass! Get our woman back!"

"I'm not sharing!" Ichigo answered, parrying a blow from his dad and counter-attacking. This comment caused Isshin to grin as he dodged.

"She's not yours yet!" Isshin reminded him, striking low to knock Ichigo off guard, "How many years do you think I've got on you?" Ichigo absorbed the impact on his leg, a shallow gash forming across his thigh. He gritted his teeth and adjusted his weight to compensate.

"Aizen had plenty of years on me, and see how much it helped him!" Ichigo countered, thrusting and giving his father a deep gash across his shoulder.

"Oho, going for my head, eh?" he teased, using the opening to slam Ichigo in the ribs with the hilt of his sword, "Good, good! I'd be disappointed if you weren't serious about this!" Ichigo took the brunt of the injury, brutally reminded of bruising that same spot days earlier.

"I'm dead serious," Ichigo hissed, clutching the new wound, "I won't let you marry her!" He threw himself at his father again, infuriated by the older man's cocky grin.

While the two Kurosakis were struggling with one another, the girls heard the sounds of feet racing down the sidewalk in their direction. Orihime, Karin, and Yuzu turned to see three teenagers headed their way.

The one dressed all in white with black hair led the pack, glasses glinting. Uryuu already had his light bow out, the white-blue fire lighting up the sidewalk brighter than the streetlights. Slightly behind him was a tall, well-built, brown haired boy, his tight shirt showing the rippling muscles underneath as he ran. Chad hadn't yet called out his armor, but Orihime could clearly see he was ready to at any second. And nearly even with Chad was Tatsuki, keeping good time with her super-powered classmates. Even though she had never been adventuring in other worlds, she _did_ run five kilometers a day for judo club.

Orihime cried out when she saw them while Yuzu's eyes grew large and Karin looked sort of nonplussed. Upon seeing the Kurosaki children, Uryuu extinguished his bow and adjusted his glasses. Within another second, the new set of spectators had pulled even with the old.

"We heard the commotion," Tatsuki panted, catching her breath, "But... Ichigo's just fighting his dad?"

"Tatsuki-chan, it's awful!" Orihime cried, "He's fighting him because of me! It's all my fault!" The three newcomers looked at one another for a moment before speaking again.

"Technically," Uryuu corrected, "This is all Kurosaki's fault. Both of them." This really didn't help Orihime's disposition any.

"Well, I guess I lost," Tatsuki finally sighed, "I bet Orihime would call it all off before it got to this." Orihime almost voiced her confusion and dismay before the others also spoke up.

"I lost the first day," Uryuu said with a shrug.

"Someone should text Mizuiro," Chad suggested, "So he can close the pool." Karin, meanwhile, had a smug look on her face as she crossed her arms.

"Hah! I beat all you suckers!" she crowed, "I had my money on today! Now I can get that new set of cleats!" Orihime and Yuzu both looked aghast.

"You were... betting on Kurosaki-kun?" she asked, forgetting to use the more familiar given name, "That's cruel!"

"That's business," Mizuiro said calmly, walking up from behind them, phone in hand, "Thanks for the text, Arisawa-san. Sucks that I was wrong, though."

"What did you bet?"

"I thought he was going to snap at school this morning," the player said evenly, "I tried to text you guys, but he took my phone."

"That sucks."

"Hnn."


	9. Chapter 9

**Title:** Oedipus Complex – Chapter Nine  
**Warnings:** het (IchiHime, IsshinHime), May/December relationship  
**Spoilers:** Through current chapters (418)

**Disclaimer:** These characters belong to a lot of Japanese people, namely people like Tite Kubo and Shonen Jump. You'll notice how none of those are me. Not responsible for epileptic seizures or allergic reactions. May contain eye-and-brain-bleeding levels of radioactive ANGST and/or peanut products. Please sit a reasonable distance from your computer screen.

**Author's Notes:** Don't give up on me just yet! There's still one more chapter after this!

* * *

Ichigo was blissfully unaware of his friends' conversation, which was probably for the best. The news that they'd been running a betting pool on his love life would certainly be unwelcome, especially with how hard his father was currently pressing him.

The older Kurosaki definitely had the edge on his son in experience and was no slouch in the raw power department, either. Ichigo wasn't struggling, but he certainly wasn't dominating this fight like he should have been. In fact, his only real edge on Isshin was the familiarity of his attacks; Ichigo had been on the receiving end of them since he was ten, so he found it really easy to track his dad's movements and anticipate what he was going to do next. And really, once he realized that, it was all the edge he needed.

As Isshin dove in for a thrust with a particularly loud 'Ha!', Ichigo expertly side-stepped him. When his father's face passed even with his shoulder, Ichigo wheeled around into a roundhouse, planting his warajied foot into the back of his father's head, and threw him to the ground face-first. The concrete splintered as Isshin's particularly hard head was driven into it.

"It's over, old man!" Ichigo bellowed, leveling Zangetsu at his father's neck while holding his head in place with his foot, "Call off the wedding!" Instead of looking distraught in any way, though, Isshin looked pleased as he managed to roll his face away from the busted pavement.

"Good job, Ichigo," he coughed, "Today, you are a man..." And then his face fell back against the street.

"Huh?"

But before Ichigo could ask his unconscious father what he meant, Orihime was on him, clutching his shihakusho and pushing him back.

"Don't!" she sobbed, "Don't hurt him anymore! Please, Kurosaki-kun, it's all my fault!" Ichigo lowered his sword, confused.

"Inoue, you don't have to marry him anymore," he said, perplexed, "Aren't you happy?"

"I promise I'll never lie to you again!" she cried, tears spilling down her cheeks in little rivers. To say Ichigo was confused would've been a gross understatement.

"You... lied to me?" he asked, puzzled and unsuspecting, "When? About what?" He honestly had no idea what she was talking about or what this had to do with his old man.

"About everything!" she burst out, looking up at him with her watery eyes. Before he could ask her any more, she buried her face in his shinigami robes and continued sobbing hysterically.

Guilt struck Ichigo at the sight and sound of all this; he loved her, didn't he? So he should be doing something while she cried. He wrapped his arms around the crying girl, holding her close to his chest and rubbing her back.

"Don't cry, Inoue," he said softly, "What did you lie about? I promise I won't be mad." Orihime only sobbed in response.

"What she meant to say," Uryuu said from the sidelines, finally drawing Ichigo's attention to the fact that they had an audience, "Is that this entire thing was a sham." Ichigo regarded the Quincy suspiciously.

"What entire thing?" he asked, not daring to hope he meant what he thought he did. Uryuu, Karin, and Tatsuki looked impatient with him.

"With your dad," Chad spoke up. After another few seconds of everyone waiting on him to continue with no further information, Ichigo went ahead with a sigh.

"Would you guys tell me exactly what the hell is going on here?" he finally barked, feeling his admittedly short fuse ignite.

"Your dad set you up, Ichigo," Mizuiro supplied cheerfully, "There was never going to be a wedding." Tatsuki folded her arms and huffed.

"He told us last week what he was going to do," she explained, "Since you're being a stubborn ass, none of us minded. Come on, Ichigo, didn't you think it was weird no one cared that Orihime was going to marry some old geezer?" Instead of being angry, Ichigo's face was frozen in mortification.

"You all knew?" he finally sputtered, "Even Urahara? Even _Rukia?_ Even _you_, Inoue?" He was almost too gobsmacked to feel betrayed, but not quite. How could the woman he loved outright lie to him like that? For an entire weekend, even! At this statement, she only cried harder.

"Don't blame her," Isshin coughed up from the pavement, "It was my idea... She just went along with it."

"Besides, you deserved it," Karin helpfully supplied, "How long have you been trying to pretend you don't like her? Even _I_ noticed."

"Everyone did," Mizuiro continued.

"Even me," Yuzu sheepishly spoke up.

"Alright, _fine!_" Ichigo bellowed, "I like her! _I love her!_ Are you all happy now?" He hardly noticed the effect his words were having on the red-faced girl in his arms.

"You... you do?" she asked quietly, "E-Even after everything we did...? Everything _I_ did?" Ichigo looked down at her, not bothering to try and smooth his scowl out for her this time.

"Well, I'm not exactly _happy_ with you at the moment," he muttered, finally addressing the girl in question, "But I _do_ love you, Inoue." Since she looked as if she might burst into tears again at any second, Ichigo swooped down to capture her in a kiss.

One by one, his friends and family started clapping. Even Chad. The only exception was Isshin, whose face was still planted in the pavement by Ichigo's foot (although he certainly would have cheered, had he been able). Finally, after nearly a minute, Ichigo came up for air and turned to address the crowd that had gathered outside his house.

"I'm still pissed at all of you, though!" he shouted, pointing an accusing finger in their direction, "You won't get off as easy as Inoue, assholes!"

"Who would want to?" Uryuu asked with a shrug and a disgusted shiver.

"Yeah, I'll pass on sucking face with you, thanks," Tatsuki agreed, causing Ichigo's face to light up with mingled embarrassment and rage.

"Sorry, Ichigo," Chad agreed. There was practically steam coming out of Ichigo's ears now.

"I'm going to kill all of you!"


	10. Chapter 10

**Title:** Oedipus Complex – Chapter Ten  
**Warnings:** het (IchiHime, IsshinHime), May/December relationship  
**Spoilers:** Through current chapters (419)

**Disclaimer:** These characters belong to a lot of Japanese people, namely people like Tite Kubo and Shonen Jump. You'll notice how none of those are me. Not responsible for epileptic seizures or allergic reactions. May contain eye-and-brain-bleeding levels of radioactive ANGST and/or peanut products. Please sit a reasonable distance from your computer screen.

**Author's Notes:** Thank you to everyone who stuck this out with me! I finally finished a multi-chapter fic! Thank you again to **Nocturne**, who is awesome, and **Star-chan**, who is a wonderful friend! You guys rock!

* * *

After chasing his friends around the block for a good half hour, Ichigo finally volunteered to walk Orihime home. It really was the least he could do. As an added bonus, since she'd agreed to be his girlfriend, he could also snag some time alone with her before the night was over to talk about what had just happened.

As it turned out, Orihime actually hadn't brought much with her. She only had a duffle bag filled with her toiletries and a week's worth of clothes. Ichigo wound up carrying it for her; if he let her carry it by herself, he figured he'd look and feel like a complete tool.

"You packed pretty light," he finally said, broaching the topic. It was a neutral statement, one that hopefully wouldn't be too awkward for her to answer.

"Kurosaki-san told me to only bring enough for the week," she said softly, still obviously very ashamed about everything.

"I guess at the end of the week he'd have sent you back home, huh?" he responded, less a question and more a statement.

"Yeah," she affirmed, eyes downcast, "If you hadn't done anything." The last part was said so softly that Ichigo barely caught it.

"I don't think that was possible," he muttered, looking anywhere but at Orihime herself, "I would've gone nuts."

"I'm sorry, Kurosaki-kun," Orihime whispered in return, "I didn't want to hurt you, but... your father said it was alright." Ichigo sighed and ruffled his hair. Orihime's continuing guilt over her involvement in Isshin's harebrained scheme struck Ichigo with a rather painful twinge. He knew exactly why his father had done it, and Orihime blaming herself simply wasn't fair.

"It's not your fault, Inoue," he said with a sigh, "And it's not his. It's mine." Orihime looked scandalized.

"B-But we lied to you the whole weekend," Orihime protested, "All of us did! That can't be your fault!" Ichigo's face pulled taut as he cast a grave look at her and stepped directly into her path so that she was forced to stop and look straight at him.

"No, it _is_ my fault," he started again, "For the past three months, I've... I've been pushing you away and ignoring you on purpose. I knew you liked me, I was just too chickenshit to face up to it." He watched as Orihime's face lit up with mingled panic and pain.

"You... you knew?" she whispered, mortified, "Why didn't you say anything?" Now it was Ichigo's turn to look down and study his rather interesting shoes.

"You know what I am, Inoue," he reminded her with a grimace, "I thought you wouldn't want me and... that you deserved better. Someone that wouldn't hurt you. Someone that would always protect you. Someone that's... not a freak."

Ichigo felt a small, soft hand slide up the side of his face and cup his cheek. He looked up to see Orihime smiling softly at him.

"Kurosaki-kun," she breathed happily, "You've never hurt me intentionally and you've always protected me. And you're not a freak. You're the person I love, so you can't insult my tastes like that anymore. Okay?" Ichigo couldn't fight the smile that tickled his lips.

"Okay," he agreed, bending down and brushing her forehead with his lips, "But in exchange, you have to tell me how this all happened." Orihime looked up at him with a wide-eyed blush.

"Umm," she stammered, hesitant, "Kurosaki-san ran into me at the convenience store last Tuesday, and we got to talking and he asked me if I wanted his help in getting you to ask me out. I agreed a-and he told me his plan and I guess I just... went along with it."  
Ichigo's brows knitted as he looked down at his new girlfriend.

"That's it?" he asked incredulously, "That's all it was? He didn't actually... do anything weird to you, did he?" Orihime looked confused.

"Well, he did want me to pose for a poster for him to put in the kitchen, but it sounded too racy..." she reasoned out loud, trying to jog her memory. Ichigo almost choked on his own spit.

"I-I didn't mean his weird obsession with Mom's poster!" Ichigo squawked, "I meant did he... you know... touch you funny or anything?" Orihime blushed at that question, finally gathering Ichigo's meaning. Even though it seemed like a really personal question, it had been bugging Ichigo ever since he'd found out the wedding was a hoax.

"N-No," Orihime stammered, much to Ichigo's relief, "Sleeping in his room was just for show. He actually slept in his office the whole time." Ichigo physically deflated as he exhaled, his relief visible.

"He said you'd be jealous," she added, causing Ichigo's eye to twitch. He wasn't even going to bother denying it this time.

"And the short nightshirt with no bottoms?" he growled, feeling a headache starting to form along his brow. He finally stepped aside and continued walking in the general direction of Orihime's apartment. As soon as he'd taken a few steps, she eagerly followed. She was also blushing profusely as she walked.

"Umm, that was h-his idea, too," she stuttered, "It wasn't for him, though. I-It was for you." Ichigo wanted to hit his head against something; of course that old pervert would have Orihime prance around half-naked just to tease him. That must have been what Karin thought was so funny about it.

At least his hollow seemed to appreciate the memory, if the stirring inside his head was any indication.

"I-I'm sorry i-if it upset you," she said quietly, looking away shyly. Did she think Ichigo could have possibly not liked that view? Oh, _brother_.

"It didn't _upset_ me," he replied, also taking the opportunity to enjoy the suddenly interesting scenery as he scratched his cheek, "It was just kind of an overload, I guess... I'm not exactly used to half-dressed girls cooking my breakfast." Orihime allowed herself a small smile at that comment.

"Maybe you will be later?" she asked hopefully as Ichigo froze in a blush. And then: "Ah-! We're here!"

Before Ichigo could respond, though, she was already halfway up the stairs to her apartment. Ichigo hadn't even noticed they'd arrived.

"Thank you for walking me home, Kurosaki-kun," she said softly, leaning over the banister on the stairs to look at him. Ichigo gave her a crooked grin. At least he knew what to do with this situation.

"Don't mention it, Inoue," he said softly, leaning forward to push her overnight bag into her hands. Once she had a good hold of it, they were left only centimeters apart. He could even feel her gentle breath tickling his lips.

He moved forward ever-so-slightly, their lips meeting in a warm embrace. This kiss was different from the first. The first had been hurried and frantic, rushed as though Ichigo was afraid someone else would come by and snatch her out of his arms before his lips could lay claim to her. This kiss, however, was light and languid. He took his time feeling out the yielding contours of her lips, enjoying their softness and the way they practically melted when he nibbled at them or ran his tongue across the bottom one. It was like enjoying a rich dessert; he savored every tiny morsel. And the best part was, she was all his now.

Finally, after several minutes, they came up for air, two pairs of brown eyes heavily lidded behind thick lashes and deep blush. Ichigo allowed himself to break into a slow grin.

"I could get used to this," he murmured, casting another look at Orihime's perfect lips. He licked his own just in reflex as she smiled for him.

"I could too," she confessed, "Just not on my front step. The neighbor ladies will gossip." Ichigo couldn't contain his laughter at that.

"I'll give them something to gossip about if you don't get in that apartment," he play-threatened. Orihime took the hint and, after one more small peck, began to walk toward her door.

"Good night, Kurosaki-kun," she said softly, waving at him below. Ichigo responded with a wave of his own.

"See you tomorrow, Inoue," he said with a crooked grin.

As he walked away, bare hands in his windbreaker, Ichigo reflected on everything that had happened that night. It was amazing how just one week ago, he'd been so afraid of himself he couldn't even speak to Orihime. Now, they were not only dating but they'd even kissed. And he'd only had to endure one of the most bizarre, infuriating situations of his entire life so far.

As much as he wanted to be angry at his father and his friends - and make no mistake, he _was_ mad at them - he knew they had his and Orihime's best interests at heart. He might be indignant now, but he knew he'd get over it.

After some well-placed revenge, anyway.

"_**Does this mean you'll listen to us more from now on?**_" his hollow spoke up, one of the rare times he'd heard from him outside of an emergency or a visit to his inner world.

_'I guess I will,'_ Ichigo thought back at him, _'I guess you guys were right after all. He just wanted me to take responsibility for everything myself.'_ He could practically feel the smugness radiating off his hollow. It was like having the most annoying roommate ever inside his own head, he realized.

"_**Yeah, you can thank us later,**_" the hollow thought back. Ichigo could barely muster a scowl for him now. He figured the hollow must also have had a soft spot for Orihime and had also grown frustrated with Ichigo's lack of resolve. That made sense - love was a battlefield, after all.

As Ichigo wound his way back home through the chilly February night, he figured the revenge and the beatings could wait a little while. Right now he felt too good to spoil the night with violence.

It was a sentiment that lasted all the way until he walked through his front door, where his father happily tackled him just like old times.


End file.
